


One of Those Days

by Meatball42



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Deleting things, Fluff, Homeless Network, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:56:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is having a very strange day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of Those Days

When Sherlock woke up that morning- well, that he needed to wake up at all should describe the tone set for the day. He spent a few seconds grumbling about the inefficacy of 'Red Bull' before pulling up his blog and setting down the preliminaries of a study.

Rising from the couch, he crossed to the kitchen/laboratory, knocking a few heart-shaped balloons aside as he did so. The teapot had been used to make an herbal mix, which meant John had an 8-4 shift at the clinic; it had been a 6-2, he'd have brewed something with caffeine. Exactly as Sherlock needed.

Once his tea was made- he was, of course, able to make tea, but only when there weren't too many thoughts sparking inside his mind, which was to say, not usually- Sherlock took a shower, fixed his hair, dressed, and set out for his twice-monthly visit to a particular subset of contacts, the visiting pattern of which he varied every time.

As he entered the place of business of his first contact, a florist who shipped methamphetamine as a side business, Sherlock was buffeted by an unusual number of customers, who seemed to be buying mostly roses. Roses, in Sherlock's opinion, were over-used and rather garish, and he had a slight sneer on his face by the time he reached the proprietor.

“Holmes!” his contact greeted while ringing up a customer. “Not a good time. Visit in a few days, there's a good lad.”

Sherlock looked around him to deduct the reason for the crowds, but when he was rather painfully elbowed in the back he decided, quite rationally, that he simply didn't care.

On the walk to his next contact, a chocolatier with Mafia ties, Sherlock noted an unusual proportion of couples engaging in public displays of affection. He noted the statistical anomaly and went on.

Arriving at the chocolatier, Sherlock was rather put out to see yet more crowds swarming the shop. His contact looked up when he entered and hurried away from the packed counter to shoo him out. “I've not time for your puzzles today,” she growled. “Out with you!”

Tossed out on the sidewalk, Sherlock looked around him with a very uncommon feeling of confusion. Why were so many people frequenting chocolate shops and flower shops and holding hands in the street on a completely innocuous Friday in February?

He pondered the question as he made his way back to the flat, but could come to no conclusions, a fact which made Sherlock quite nervous for his own sanity. What could possibly be causing such anomalous behaviour in what seemed like the entirety of London?

When he reached Baker Street, still preoccupied with his thoughts, Sherlock was unexpectedly set upon by Mrs. Hudson, who accosted him in the doorway with a plate of cookies and a wide smile. “Sherlock, dear, I made you and John a snack!”

Sherlock peered at the plate: the cookies were heart-shaped. “Thank you, Mrs. Hudson,” he said, smoothly covering up the panic that was nearly erupting inside of him. “I'm sure we will enjoy them.”

She patted his cheek and shooed him up the stairs; he could not quite climb fast enough. Sherlock burst into the flat and beelined for his laptop, knocking the heart-shaped balloons out of the way. The noise of his arrival summoned John from the kitchen.

“Sherlock, you know we've got a reservation in a half hour, what are you doing?”

“Something is terribly wrong, John, and I need to find out what-”

Sherlock did a double-take at his boyfriend. Next to John's flummoxed expression was a heart-shaped balloon, its pink swirly writing clearly spelling out 'Happy Valentines Day!'

John slowly smirked. “You deleted Valentines Day, didn't you?”

Sherlock scoffed. “Of course not. Go get dressed, you'll make us late.”

John left still chortling. Sherlock glowered at his back, and then opened up Wikipedia.


End file.
